Hero On the Run
by AborigineAshley
Summary: Even 'big brother' lets down his guard occassionally, even if he doesn't like it. Season 1 through Zack's eyes. Eventual ML. Chapter 7 up!
1. Motorcycles at Night

**Author's Note:** I was just watching the Season 1 DVD, and I came to realize how much I loved Zack's character. He's the type of person I'd want to have around. So... I hope you all like my little tribute to him, because he is definitely worthy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dark Angel or any of its characters. If I did, the series finale would have actually given some closure. Bah.

  
**Hero On the Run: Motorcycles at Night**

It was one of those nights. The kind where everything felt infinite. He had been watching his little sister, Max, for about a week now. Each and every time he saw her it was as if he was coming home… it was almost as if he had stopped running. It had never been like this with Krit, Tinga, or any of the others. Max had always been special, though. She wasn't like the rest of them. She had a compassion and yearning that no one else at Manticore ever fully comprehended. Apparently, this only grew after our escape.

With every fleeting glance he took towards those mournful brown eyes of hers, he found himself more and more at home… and also much more vulnerable than he had ever thought possible. The concept was foreign. With ten years of his life spent on constant military training, courtesy of Manticore, Zack had often wondered if he ever felt anything anymore.

_I've got to get her out of there. She's been in Seattle too long. Has she forgotten her training?! It's a wonder she hasn't been caught yet,_ he thought to himself.

He kept himself close but never conspicuous. He watched her, but made sure that she never truly saw him. He was always looking out for her, until that night.

Finally, he got his chance to get closer than 100 yards. Apparently, she hadn't been able to sleep. But Max never slept. Neither did Jondy. They didn't need it, and they didn't want to be plagued by nightmares like he and the rest of them were.

He could see Max heading out on her motorcycle, a shiny black Ninja 650. _She has taste,_ he thought. _She likes things fast and furious._ He quickly snapped out of his thoughts and immediately left his perch on the rooftop. He boarded his own motorcycle and went after her. If he knew Max, she would always be up to a challenge. He sped off into the night and in the direction that she had taken. Soon he caught up and pulled the shades on his helmet down over his face and eyes. He pulled up beside her and revved his engine in a challenging manner. She grinned and nodded, revving her engine in return. The battle for superiority and dominance started. He could see the look of pure satisfaction and freedom on her face out of the corner of his eye.

He pulled ahead after a few moments, never one to be outdone and always one to assert his dominance. She followed suit, grinning madly. They both sped on for a while, until Zack was ahead and not looking back. Then, he realized he was alone. He turned back and retraced his path until he came to where Max had been pulled over by a couple of cops. They were confiscating her bike. _Bloody sons of…_ he thought, but was simultaneously interrupted by the sight of Max walking in his direction, muttering angrily. He took off as quietly as possible and followed her all the way home… just to be safe. He was always safe.

**Author's Note:** Alright, so it's the new and (hopefully) improved format! Yes! Stay with me guys... and give me some feedback. I truly appreciate it. 


	2. Jam Pony

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dark Angel or anything on FOX.

**Hero On the Run: Jam Pony**

The next morning, Zack walked in to the place that he knew Max worked at, Jam Pony. It looked kind of like a dodgy place, and of course he didn't trust it. But the feeling was nothing new. Trust didn't come very easily to him, and that seemed pretty understandable, all things considered.

When he walked in there was a commotion going on. Max was surrounded by her new friends and was looking at a classified ad intently. She looked incredibly intense. He wondered what was going on, but quickly regained his wits.

"Who would I talk to about working here?" he inquired, causing most everyone around Max to look up, including her.

"Well, if you're smart, no one. But if you're desperate and male prostitution is out of the question, talk to that fool," replied a skinny, odd-looking guy, who pointed to another man, who was dressed in the most ridiculous clothes and had an earpiece in his ear.

"Excuse me," he said to the man, clearing his throat. "I was wondering if you had any job openings?"

"Yeah, cuz I'm not warehousing enough dead-beat, no-good bums," came the skeptical reply.

Putting on his best submissive act, because he could tell right off the bat that it would make the guy happy, Zack asked another question, "Okay. Would it be an imposition if I check back with you, sir? I'm not afraid of hard work and I'd be grateful for an opportunity to prove myself."

The man's eyes lit up immediately. "Did you just call me 'sir'?"

Zack smiled, satisfied, and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I like that. Here. Fill this out, get it back to me in the morning," he said, handing me a crumpled piece of paper. _This place is such a joke… why is Max still here?_ he thought, a saccharine-sweet smile on his face.

He pretended to be grateful. In a way he was, because it gave him an opportunity to make sure Max didn't do something stupid. "Thank you," he said to the man, who he later found out was named 'Normal'.

"You're welcome," Normal said and continued on with his work. Zack left without another word, just taking one last careful glance at Max.

* * *

Later that night he tracked Max's movements to a dark alley. It was late at night. _What is she thinking?_ he thought to himself. He was hiding out on a ledge in the shadows, watching as an overweight man (who looked like he'd taken a few beatings as of late) called out to her from the other side of the alley. He could hear their conversation pretty well, thanks to his good ol' buddies at Manticore. Max was on the phone, speaking urgently to some unknown man.

"Well, it's about time you showed up. I've been running that ad for about a week," came the man's voice.

"Where are you?" inquired Max, disappointment clear in her tone.

The voice came out again, and the man left the shadows. "Turn around." She did as commanded, and looked at the man with a smirk.

"Well, it would be nice if you used your pager every once in a while," he said coolly. Zack was beginning to think that this guy was up to no good. He couldn't trust him.

"Yeah, well, I figured you handed my pager number over to the people looking for me same way you gave up Hannah," she retorted quickly. Zack might have speculated on this, but the conversation continued.

The man made a few gestures with his hands and stated matter-of-factly, "Hey, no worries. I took precautions here. We weren't followed. I've got new clothes here in case the old ones are bugged. It's just you and me, all right? We're alone."

"What do you want?" Max asked with a look of pure disgust on her face.

"How about $15,000?"

"Oh, damn, you know… I left my wallet in my other pants," she retorted in a harsh, cynical tone. "In exchange for some information about some fugitives from project Manticore, what's to stop you from taking my money and blowing me to Lydecker for the daily double?"

"Yeah, right, somebody that keeps me in a cage for two weeks, does complicated painful things to my body. I kind of want to stay away from that person, okay? Far away as possible," he replied. There was something off about him. Zack didn't know what or who he was, but he could just sense that he wasn't to be trusted.

"How do I know what you got's real?" Max asked, softening slightly.

"I got your number, didn't I? And there's more where that came from, let me tell you."

"Yeah, like what?"

"What if I were to tell you that a pal of yours from this Manticore is right here in Seattle?"

Zack's stomach sank. He knew right then that he had to do something about this guy. Max wouldn't stop until she knew who that 'pal from Manticore' was. He couldn't risk her finding him, not now. He quickly took the opportunity to snap a few pictures while she was so intent on the tidbits of information this guy was feeding her. "Who?" she asked, peering at the man intently.

"Fifteen grand. Here. Be at this address, 3:30. Day after tomorrow," he replied coldly.

"You're giving me less than 48 hours to come up with 15 grand," she stated, skepticism written all over her face.

"Yeah, if you want the information. As for me, I'm getting out of dodge one way or another. Good luck to you, kid," he replied calmly, "Good luck to both of us," she said and turned away. Zack waited until he was sure the man was out of range and wasn't going to pull any moves on her. Then he followed Max home, as usual.

* * *

Zack finished filling out the job application in the most desperate, submissive way that he could possibly fill it out, and headed to Jam Pony. He was partially disgusted with himself, and partially thrilled that he could BS things like this so well. When he got there, the place was dysfunctional. He had a feeling it was like that most of the time.

"Enjoy your little victory, Normal. We're understaffed as it is and you just canned your best rider," said the idiotic-looking guy from the day before.

"Here's the man of the hour," said Zack's new 'boss', Normal. He obviously didn't give a crap about what his employees were complaining about.

"Hey!" came his somewhat-fake greeting.

"Come here," commanded Normal, pulling Zack in front of him and showing him like some sort of dog. "May I present your new colleague, Sam. He's a fine young man. He's got a good attitude and a bright future. I recommend all of you to his example, right? Why don't you grab a locker, my boy? I'll set you up on your first run."

The workers all looked at Zack up and down like he was some sort of axe-murderer-alien. It was clear they wanted their friend back, and weren't too happy with Zack being his replacement. Max was included in this. There were a few audible growls, but Normal paid no attention to this.

"There we go," he said, shoving a package in Zack's hands. "Cheer up."

He could tell life at Jam Pony just wasn't what could be expected… ever.


	3. Butterflies and Moths

**A/N:** I am so sorry for the delay. All of a sudden, I got a life! Wow. Never thought that'd happen. But aaaaaaaanyway… here's a little bit of mushy stuff. It's all in Zack's mind, though… **Disclaimer:** You know the drill… I don't own Dark Angel or any of these characters… gimme a break.

**Hero On the Run: Butterflies and Moths**

After delivering a few packages with relative ease (since he knew the town from countless hours hovering over Max), Zack returned back to Jam Pony. Things were in a state of chaos, and it was clear that "Normal" was losing any control he might have possessed at one point in time. He listened to the bickering, until his alias was brought up.

"Well, what about your new boy, Sam?" came a smart, somewhat rhetorical question from the guy named "Sketchy". "I thought he was the great white hope."

"Hey, that young man is worth the rest of you bums put together," replied Zack's "boss". He smirked to himself and decided to play the fool. These people hated "Sam"… he figured he could use that to my advantage.

"Hey, 1535 Eagle. Eagle street is where, exactly?" he questioned, barely able to keep a straight face.

"It's just past Wurlitzer, south of North Jesus Avenue," said Sketchy.

"Between Proctor & Gamble," chimed in the woman with the funky hair, whom he got a funny feeling from. There was something different about her…

"Yeah, right across the street from... Power Nipple," some smart-ass random person added.

"Excuse me, sir do you know where...?" he asked again, before he was interrupted by Max. She was her usual self: cool and confident on the surface. He knew something was going on behind those brown eyes, though.

"I've got to be in sector two at 3:30. You got anything for me?" she queried, a slight tension present in her voice (though it was masked by her usual, nonchalant tone).

"Here, follow her. She's headed that way," Normal commanded.

_This is way too easy…_ he thought, and followed Max on my bike. "Appreciate you helping me out," I told her, a bit more vulnerably than I intended. 

"Don't get used to it. Normal's your mentor, not me," she replied, cold as ever.

"Look, I didn't get your friend fired, okay?"

"Nope, but don't expect an outpouring of love from Jam Pony anytime soon," she said distractedly. "I'm taking a break."

We pulled into a coffee shop and parked our bikes.

"What is this, part of the slowdown?" he asked sarcastically.

"No. A girl's got to pee," she replied, matter-of-factly, and headed off to the bathroom.

Quickly, he scanned the surroundings, taking in all the possible exits and figured out the quickest escape route. It was a habit from Manticore, and he didn't even notice it anymore. He just did it. Soon, Max came out of the restroom. She came back to the table, eyes never leaving the payphone in the corner.

"Expecting a call?" he asked adventurously.

"You never know," she replied and got up. She headed to the payphone, where a couple girls were chatting and giggling. "All right time's up. There's another phone down the block. It's on me," she declared annoyedly, handing the girls some change. The girls left, and Max put her gum in the coin slot of the phone. She headed back to the table with a loud sigh, eyes roaming.

"You seem nervous," he said. It was supposed to be a thought, but the words slipped past him.

"Compared to what? You don't even know me," she retorted, full of that Max attitude.

"Maybe we knew each other in a past life," he replied, trying to keep his confidence without betraying himself.

"I don't believe in that stuff," she said distractedly and shrugged.

"It doesn't mean it's not true," he argued, eyes glued to hers.

"Oh, please tell me you're not one of those people: Because a raindrop fell in the ocean 10,000 years ago and a butterfly farted in India you and I are sitting right here right now enjoying a cup of coffee that tastes like goat piss," she replied sarcastically.

_God, she's gorgeous when she's cynical._

"Anything's possible," he stated, trying to keep a straight face.

"Unravel this mystery, grasshopper," she smiled, until the payphone began to ring. "What is the sound of one hand hitting you upside your head, hmm?" she asked, then smacked him upside the head. She was a hard hitter, even when just goofing off.

He laughed a little and watched her as she walked hurriedly over to the phone. He found himself admiring her as she walked away, and as soon as he grasped control again, turned away. It wasn't for long though. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

"Punk ass here," she stated coolly as she answered the phone.

"I've got it," she replied to the unknown caller after a few seconds. "How do I know you're not setting me up?"

The person on the other line obviously said something that didn't please her. "Then give me something else, to help your credibility."

A few moments passed, and her eyes got wide. It was the first time he'd seen her truly vulnerable since the night of our escape. "Zack...what tattoo parlor?" she asked.

His eyes got wide, too. She was close to him, and she didn't even know it. He knew right then that he'd have to be careful with her. She was gonna be trouble… she always had been. But he loved it.

She sauntered back over, not even bothering to sit back down. 

"Good news?" he asked as unobtrusively as possible.

"Yep, and it's none of your business," she replied, the softness gone from her face.

"Let me get this," he offered, taking out his wallet.

"I was thinking maybe later me..." she said in a sickeningly fake, girly voice, then stopped and smirked. "Don't even try to hit on me."

"No, I was just..." he started, acting innocent.

"Don't." she said, and walked out the door. He pulled out his money and paid for the coffee, then exited after her.

**A/N:** Hope you guys liked it. Please read and review! I don't care if you tear me to pieces… just give me some sort of feedback. I'll try to keep this up (unless you're sick of my horrible writing… then I can spare you, I suppose). More mushy stuff next chapter. Poor Zack. 


	4. Phony Sentimentality

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dark Angel, it's characters, or FOX. If I did… there would be a Season 3 to the show. *grumble*

**Hero On the Run: Phony Sentimentality**

Vogelsang knew too much. He was a threat. Zack knew how to deal with threats. Standard training had taught him to exterminate possible enemies before they could do the same to you. It may not be pretty, but it kept him alive. It kept him able to do his job… to protect Max.

It was nearly 5:30 when Zack got to the meeting place. It was right outside the rooming house on Jackson and third, room 18. He'd conveniently used his genetically enhanced senses to overhear Max's conversation. _Good ol' Manticore._ he thought, and rolled his eyes.

After scanning the area, he found his target. Vogelsang was early. _Surprising,_ Zack thought. _Wouldn't have thought that double-crossing tub of lard would bother to show up._

Casually he sauntered over to an alley wall no more than 10 yards away from Vogelsang and pulled out a cigarette. He leaned up against the shabby brick and lit up.

He quickly took in his surroundings. Only a few witnesses. He'd be gone before they knew what was going on anyway. No cops.

Vogelsang was checking his watch. He looked nervous… jumpy. Not even close to trustworthy. Zack's window of opportunity was quickly shutting itself. _No time like the present, right?_

He flicked his cigarette to the ground, pulled himself to his full height, and began walking towards Vogelsang, hands in the pockets of his jacket. His fingers closed around his .38 caliber… his one familiarity. He was closing in casually.

When he was only an arm's length away, with Vogelsang looking the opposite way, he took action. He whipped out his gun with transgenic reflexes and took aim at the back of the traitor's thick skull.

In the blink of an eye, he had pulled the trigger and disappeared from sight. He didn't look over his shoulder to admire his gruesome handiwork. He simply walked away, placing the gun back into his pocket.

* * *

He'd taken the "scenic route" back to his current residence. It really wasn't a home. It was just somewhere to crash. He'd need it tonight. There were so many thoughts… so many memories.

He'd often wondered what it could have been like after the night of their escape… if he hadn't made everyone scatter. But eventually he came to the same conclusion: they wouldn't have survived if they had stayed together. They would have been too conspicuous… practically sitting ducks. No… he'd made the right decision.

_God… no ten-year-old should ever have to make decisions like that…_ he thought with disdain.

As he approached his… what should he even call it? Room? House? Hole in the wall? At any rate, he was near that place. But tonight there was something different. He spotted a motorcycle near an alley wall. Max's. He could sense her nearby. Had she found him? Did he want her to find him?

Silently he crept into his room and pulled out his gun, just to be safe. He moved into his "bedroom" until he saw her. She was rifling through his things… the photographs of her, the classified ad, the tryptophan. He put away his gun and simply watched her, stunned temporarily.

He'd waited so long for this moment. She would finally see him again… and know him. He was almost reliant on her… and she didn't even know it! The thought made him panic. He shouted the first word that came to mind: "Stop!"

He moved closer and grabbed her firmly. She tensed instantly. She was already in a standard defensive position. _Good girl_ he thought.

"It's me… Max!" she exclaimed, a nervous edge to her words.

He let her go, and she turned to face him. Her eyes were wide with disbelief… and, if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, a sort of passionate joy. It quickly turned to annoyance, though. All he could do was grin.

"You? You're Zack?! Why did you tell me?!?!?" she yelled as she pulled him into an embrace.

She was so warm… so perfect in his arms. He had denied himself everything but pain for so long… but it had never really been prominent until that moment.

He had the sudden urge to laugh, but he heard a foreign noise. She heard it, too. They both looked out the window. There were several HumVees arriving. "Lydecker," he said coolly, the authoritative edge he'd made his trademark coming back into his voice. She nodded in compliance, and they made their way to the stairs.

Lydecker's men were infiltrating the building rapidly. Instantaneously, both Zack and Max switched into a combat mentality. They chose their targets with decisive ease and grace, using a mix of martial arts and streetfighting to take down the genetically-inferior Manticore soldiers.

They kicked and punched a trail down the stairs, towards an old fire escape. "Not bad," commented Zack, grinning slightly. Max just gave him a smile. The moment was soon ruined, however.

More soldiers were taking their positions, trying to surround the two X5's. _Fat chance…_ Zack thought. He took the lead this time, clearing a path to the fire escape.

Max followed, finishing off the soldiers until they were, for the most part, knocked out. Zack opened the door and scanned the area. He motioned to Max that it was clear, then slid down a cable to the ground below. Max followed him, landing perfectly. They ran silently towards a nearby railroad yard.

Not a word was spoken until they reached the yard. They both scanned the area, waiting for the slightest indication that they'd been followed. Nothing.

Finally, he broke the silence. "How did you find me?" he demanded in a slightly softer tone than he would usually take.

She looked him straight in the eyes. "Vogelsang tipped me on your visit to the tattoo parlor. You killed him, didn't you?"

Was that **annoyance** in her voice? He was only trying to protect her!

He regained his composure and stated calmly, "Lydecker was set up on him. You were walking into a trap."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, emotion clear in her words. "You should have warned me… told me not to go."

"Vogelsang knew too much," he reiterated. He was just looking out for her. Doing what he did best.

"You murdered an innocent man!" she spat out. He had to break eye contact with her. It was too much. She'd find him out if she looked at him too much longer… he just knew it. He let his temper slip slightly. "The night we all escaped, you put your lives in my hands. I've been looking out for you ever since. Every one of you. Vogelsang was weak. Lydecker would have gotten the information out of him. He would have hunted us down one by one, and I couldn't let that happen."

Max was still staring at him. He would've sworn that the girl's eyes were damn magnets or something. It wouldn't surprise him… judging by Manticore's track record. "So you traded one life for twelve, is that it?" she asked indignantly.

"I stand by my decision. It's not safe here. Lydecker's men will be combing the city. We have to leave tonight. I can get us to San Francisco, and we'll split up there," he said. It was more of an order than anything, but orders were Zack's comfort zone.

A look of panic and confusion lit up Max's features. He'd seen that look before… the night they had split up the first time. She had been the loudest protestor of the idea. He remembered it like it was yesterday.

_ "We have to split up, Max! They'll be sure to get us if we stay together! Don't you understand? I'm just trying to take care of everyone!" he had said._

"Zack… what if we never see each other again? We don't know what to expect out there! Who's going to look out for us in the outside world?" Max had protested. She was just expressing the fear that was written so plainly on each of the twelve children's faces.

"I'll take care of them. And I'll take care of you, Maxie…"

"Split up?" she asked in desperation.

Zack almost caved in. He almost crumbled. No…. no… he had to do it. He couldn't stay with her. "What are you talking about? We can't stay together, Max! It will compromise everyone's safety."

Her eyes flared. _Uh oh…_ he thought. _She's gonna be pissed now._

"You know where the others are?! Tell me!" she demanded.

He leaned forward to get his point across. If she could only understand. "The less you know about the others, the better. That way, if anyone gets captured, the others will still be safe."

She grabbed for him desperately. "But they're my family!" she shouted.

He stared at her icily. "They're soldiers... and so are you. The only person you can rely on, Max, is yourself. Everything else is just a lie. It's phony sentimentality… and it will get you killed. Now, let's go."

"No."

He pulled himself to his full height and looked down at her condescendingly. "I'm not asking you, Max. I'm giving you an order."

She smirked and tilted her head to the side. "What are you going to do… court-martial me?"

He couldn't believe it! She was going to get herself hurt! Didn't she know that she was **his** responsibility?!

He tried to talk some sense into her. "If you stay here, you risk tactical exposure. Or have you forgotten everything that they taught us?"

"No, but I'm trying real hard at it. You're still back at Manticore. Maybe I'm chasing a sentimental lie, but at least I'm trying to get away from it."

Her words cut deep. It was the truth, he knew. Sometimes truth just wasn't helpful.

"I can't be responsible for you if you won't listen," he spat out, turning around to leave.

"Zack… don't go! Please!" she called out, reaching for him.

"I have to," he replied, revealing as much emotion in his eyes and voice as his body and mind would allow. He smiled at her sincerely. "Did a good job on you, Max. Turned out okay."

With that… he walked away. On the outside, he was simply walking. On the inside… he was running…

* * *

**Author's Note:** Woo! Sorry that took me so long… I'm way too easily distracted. Love it? Hate it? Send me some criticism… or *gasp* praise! I'll be continuing this just as soon as I can. 


	5. San Francisco

**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em. Sorry to disappoint all you sue-happy scavengers out there.

**Hero On the Run: **

All was silent in the railroad yard. Zack had always been excellent when it came to stealth. He couldn't look back… his only indication that Max had actually left was the persistently growing emptiness spreading through his mind and body. Every step felt foreign, misguided somehow.

He headed back to his quarters, alert as ever. After a thorough examination of the area, he was convinced enough that the coast was clear. He didn't have much time.

Quickly, he made his way to the room. The places was in an even greater state of chaos than when he'd left. _They sure had a field day ransacking this place… bastards._ he thought.

With a soft sigh he began gathering up his meager belongings into a black duffel bag. He produced a garbage bag and disposed of everything that was unnecessary. Soon, he found himself holding the surveillance photographs he had taken of Max.

He couldn't let go. They would only drag him down… they were evidence. He had to burn them along with all the other refuse. But he couldn't let go. With a groan, he placed the pictures inside the lining of the duffel bag. _This is ridiculous…_ he thought. _I can't even take out the trash anymore without her interference._

After he had condensed his belongings adequately, he set out to sterilize the place. He pulled out some cleaning supplies he'd picked up on his way into Seattle, and scrubbed every inch of space. _It'll have to do for now,_ he thought.

Wordlessly, he slung the black duffel bag over his shoulder, checked his .38 caliber, and walked out of the room.

It was a clear night. Everything was still, or as still as it got post-pulse. It was just a little too superficial for his liking. As thoroughly as possible, Zack studied his surroundings. He spotted a hobo to his left, and two men that had absolutely no reason to be here to his right. _Great… Lydecker's still got a few men around. You'd think they'd learn to be a little bit more inconspicuous, though…_ he thought. Quickly, he tossed his bag across his motorcycle and withdrew his gun.

He took a shot at one of the men to his right, who had decided to lunge after the X5. _Idiot._ There was a rapidly-growing stain of blood gathering on the man's chest, dead center on the location of his heart.

Obviously angered by their fellow lackey's demise, the other two attempted to surround Zack. In response, the genetically-engineered killing machine sent a roundhouse kick to the man he was facing. Lydecker's soldier stumbled back for a moment, just long enough for Zack to send a vicious uppercut to the other man's jaw.

As the second man went reeling back, Zack turned his attention back to the first. He had recovered enough to send a kick to Zack's ribcage. Zack flinched and drew his hands to his stomach, then looked up at his opponent, eyes flaring.

Mouth set in an unforgiving line, a glare set on his face, Zack spun around. He kicked into the second man's shin with a sickening crack, then thrust his elbow back into the first man, making sure he hit a kidney.

With the first man doubled over, he ground the heel of his shoe into the second man's face, which was currently on the ground, contorted with pain. "Tell Lydecker that he can fuck himself. None of us are going to that hell-hole that he would have us call 'home'. Not while I'm alive," he spat out, eyes still full of fury.

The first man was on his hands and knees, coughing violently. Zack glared at him in disgust, then kneed him in the stomach for good measure. He turned to glare violently at the bum, who quickly turned and began rummaging through a nearby pile of trash.

Satisfied, Zack walked back to his bike, mounted it, and sped off towards San Francisco. Little did he know, the "bum" had pulled out a cell phone as soon as he was out of sight. "Deck… one of your kids just beat up his babysitters. Yep… he took off. Southbound. Thought you'd want to know."

*~*

The next morning, Zack pulled up to an apartment complex very close to the Golden Gate Bridge. He walked up a set of stairs to room 210, bag in hand, and smiled slightly as he knocked at the door.

After a few moments, an attractive blonde opened the door. "Hey, Jondy. Long night?" he asked her, gesturing to the knife she held in her right hand. "Zack!" she exclaimed, dropping the knife and throwing her arms around his neck.

"Long time, no see," they said in unison. Jondy laughed as she pulled away and beckoned him inside. "What are you still doing out there?" she asked playfully. "Get inside!"

Zack stepped into the apartment, scanning behind himself quickly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jondy do the same. _Good girl,_ he thought protectively.

She closed the door behind him and gestured to the couch. Zack set his bag next to the couch, sat down, and took a look around. There were posters of classic rock bands and photographs everywhere. "I like what you've done with the place," he commented idly. "You look great, Dee."

Jondy smiled broadly at her nickname, then rolled her eyes. "Please, Zack… you didn't come all the way from wherever the hell you were just to tell me that."

Zack smiled a little. "I saw Max again," he replied quietly, looking down at the floor.

Jondy's features softened. "Did you talk to her this time? Or did you just play stalker again?"

Zack laughed bitterly and shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. "No… I did it this time."

"And?"

"And? And she's just as stubborn as ever. She's gonna get herself killed… soon. Lydecker's on to her," he said worriedly, blue eyes clouding over.

Jondy nodded and moved closer to him, tucking her legs under herself comfortingly. Zack just turned away from her, lost in thought. She looked down, almost sadly, and stroked his arm.

"What am I gonna do, Jondy?" he asked, making eye contact with her. All she could do was shrug and trace the lines of his face.

"First of all… you've got to realize that Max is Max. She's been looking for you… for us… for ten years. Knowing you, you probably blew her off when she asked about us. Now, I know that's not what you meant to do," she added, seeing the protest written across his features. "I know that you are just trying to protect us. But you have to understand… she's been all alone for all this time."

"But that's no reason to make deadly choices! She **knows** that staying in one location for extended periods of time will only result in exposure!" he exclaimed, hitting the couch in frustration.

"Zack! You're going into Manticore mode… **again**. It's no wonder she shut you out! You're just making her remember everything that she… we… went through back in that prison camp," the younger X5 said bluntly, grabbing Zack's shoulders.

Zack's tensed body relaxed a little, and he buried his face in his hands. "She's beautiful, you know. Strong, too. I know that she can take care of herself, believe me I do…"

"Do you? Because you sure don't sound like it, big brother," Jondy retorted.

At a loss for words, Zack stood up. He started to move towards the door, only to be intercepted by a blur of motion that was Jondy.

"Move, Dee," he commanded.

"Zack… you know I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm just trying to help you understand. Don't run away... not again," she pleaded.

He stared into her eyes, searching for something… anything. Finally, he sighed and walked back into the center of the room. "You got somewhere I can crash? I've been awake for at least thirty-six hours. I know that doesn't bug the likes of you, but us **normal** freaks need our rest," he teased.

Jondy smiled, relieved, and pointed to the bedroom. "Right in there… get some shut eye, then we can catch up, alright?"

Zack nodded and moved his bag into the bedroom, barely mustering the energy to take off his jacket before collapsing on the bed.


	6. Old Friends

**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em. Except for Damion and Amber. Who are they, you ask? Read on, my friends, and you will see!

**Hero On the Run: Old Friends**

_He was running down the halls of Manticore. Max was here somewhere… he could feel her. He could hear her pleading, sobbing. He kept running and running, not knowing whether he was running to her rescue or running away from her gut-wrenching screams._

_All the halls he knew by heart were flashing by him. Everything was swirling together. Max was screaming his name. She was in pain. He couldn't reach her. He was failing her. Finally, the screaming stopped and became a terrifying silence. He just kept running._

Zack shot up and grasped the bedsheets in his fists, looking around wide-eyed. Slowly, his breathing became less erratic. He examined his surroundings, remembering where he was.

He breathed in deeply, then climbed out of bed. Raking a hand through his hair, he walked towards the living room, looking for Jondy.

He found her in the kitchen, humming a song. It looked like she was making some tea. _Old habits die hard…_ he thought.

Jondy had always been a paradox to him. She was just a mess of contradictions. The thought made him smile. _Silly Dee._

He glanced at the clock. It was already seven PM.

With a slight smile, he leaned against a nearby wall in the kitchen. Jondy whirled around, already in defensive position. When she saw it was only a disheveled Zack, she relaxed and gave him a wide grin. "Good morning, sleepyhead. Want some tea?"

He shook his head. It sounded like heaven, but he didn't want to be any more of a burden than was necessary.

Jondy just shrugged and turned back to her tea kettle.

"A watched pot never boils, you know," he prodded, trying to break the silence.

"A watched pot never goes unguarded, though," she retorted, "I would have thought that you'd made that your motto by now."

Zack laughed and stood up. "You still working at that bar?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied as the tea kettle finally began to whistle. She poured the boiling water into her cup and dropped a teabag into the scalding liquid. "I know you don't like me working there, but it pays damn well. It's cash, no questions asked. I do my job, and it's not like I need a lot of sleep at night… so it suits me."

He gave her a disapproving look and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know… I think that you've been in this place too long. You're in danger, just like Maxie."

"Zack," she said condescendingly. "As long as we're genetically-engineered killing machines, we're gonna be in danger. Even you can't make that go away."

"That doesn't mean I can't protect you from that danger. And protocol…" he was immediately cut off by Jondy… again.

"Shove your protocol. I remember my training, Zack. And I'll always rely on your opinion more than anyone else's. But that doesn't mean that you're always right."

Zack ground his teeth together for a moment, then nodded. "I'm just looking out for you, Dee."

"I know, Zack," she replied, walking over to him to wrap him in an embrace. "Why don't you let me look out for you?"

Zack held her lovingly, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "I don't know, sis. I just can't risk it. Not right now."

She nodded into his chest, pulling away slowly. "I've gotta get ready for work. I'm opening tonight… figures, huh?"

"Yeah… I'll drop by near the end of your shift. I've got to go do some things I need to do," he said, walking to the bedroom to grab his jacket and his wallet.

When he emerged, Jondy was on the couch, drinking her tea. "I'd tell you to be careful… but you're careful enough for all twelve of us. Saying it would be way too redundant for my taste," she teased.

"You be careful too. I'd hate to have to save you from a bunch of raving drunks… again," he countered. He savored the look of protest and fury in her blue eyes for a split second. Before she could come up with a witty comeback, he was out the door.

In a blur of motion, he was down the stairs and revving up his Ducati 750 Sport. He put on his helmet and took off with a small, satisfied grin on his face.

He headed towards the center of town until he reached a small shop by a neighborhood market. There were no signs, no distinguishing features. It was one of those hole-in-the wall places that no one knows about. No one except those who had a purpose for being there. It was hidden in plain sight… classically genius.

He entered the shop and walked up to the counter. Seeing no one around, he leaned against it and tapped the nearby service bell. Still no one. "Damion, I know you're in here. C'mon… I don't have all day," he bellowed.

Immediately, a disheveled young man came running out. He was buttoning up his shirt, and had lipstick smudges all around his face. "Zack!" he cried, abandoning his attempt to make himself presentable.

Zack just rolled his eyes with a knowing grin and moved around behind the counter. He was immediately pulled into a brotherly hug and clapped on the back heartily.

Damion Karkaroff was a young Russian "informant," no older than 24. His dark hair was constantly in a state of chaos, making his fair skin stand out. Clever, dark blue eyes and a mischievous smile only added to his charm. No job went down in California without him knowing about it.

Zack had met him on his first trip to find Jondy in San Francisco. He'd been attempting a cat burglary at the wrong, or… depending on perspective, right, time and place. They gained a mutual respect and friendship, and had each other's back ever since.

"What's up?" the young Russian asked in a thick accent. "You haven't been around in forever!" Zack laughed and shook his head. "Not much, man. I've been… busy."

"I understand," the older man replied. As soon as he opened his mouth to continue, there was a distinctly feminine shout from the other room. "Damion! What's taking so long? I'm getting lonely…"

Zack raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the other room. "That doesn't sound like Nadia…" he commented.

"Nadia… ahhh… she decided that her career was more important than me. And I couldn't have that," Damion replied, then turned towards the back room. "Just a second, love… a very old and important friend is here."

An over-exaggerated sigh was clearly audible as an attractive woman with long auburn hair sauntered out. She was clad only in a long shirt, obviously Damion's. Unabashedly, she turned to Zack and gave him a dazzling smile.

"Darling… this is Zack. Zack… Amber," Damion introduced, apparently undaunted by his mistress' lack of clothing.

"Pleased to meet you… Damion talks about you all the time," Amber said, voice full of sex and money.

"Likewise," was the only thing Zack had to say.

"Amber… let me talk with Zack for a while, then we'll continue, yes?" Damion pleaded, seeing the restless look on his friend's face.

Amber nodded and trotted out of the room, running her hand over Damion's arm as she passed.

"Now… what did you come to talk about? And, make it quick. She gets vicious when left waiting," Damion imparted with a grin.

"It's about Jondy. Have you been keeping an eye on her, like I asked?"

"Of course, why would I not?" came the innocent reply.

"Because you've been… otherwise engaged?" Zack retorted, looking pointedly at the room that Amber had sauntered into.

Damion ran a hand through his messy, dark hair and shrugged. "I know how to manage both work **and** play… something I cannot say about you, my friend."

Zack frowned for a moment, regaining his normal rigid posture, and shrugged back. "Alright… I get your point," he replied dully. "Does everything seem to be alright with her? Any potential threats?"

"No… her apartment is usually very quiet, from what my man tells me. Very rarely does she have… company."

Zack's gaze jerked up suddenly, brow furrowed. "And her job at The Wild Cherry?"

"You know men… they are beasts. And with a beautiful woman like Jondy, they tend to act exactly as such," Damion replied, gesturing with his hands.

Zack's eyes flared, much like they had when attacking the Manticore soldiers last night. "Well… tonight we'll see how they behave."

"Don't go acting irrationally, Zack. They are not as good of men as we," Damion warned, a slight smile playing across his features.

"Don't worry about it. It was good to see you again… I'll keep in touch. You know how to reach me if there's an emergency."

Damion nodded and grabbed Zack by the wrist, shaking firmly. "Come back soon, my friend."

Zack nodded with a grin and pointed to the back room. "Go on… she's waiting," he said, and walked out of the shop.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So… what do you think of Damion so far? I'll be developing him more. Oh… and there will be some conflict with Logan soon enough! Just you wait! Big thanks to my sugah, Kirsten. She's just full of ideas when I prod her enough.


	7. The Wild Cherry

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FOX or any of Dark Angel's characters/plot.

**Author's Note:** If any of you guys don't like the names of my people/places… just know that most of them were made up by someone else. They're inside jokes… to an extent. Anyway… on with the story.

**Hero On the Run: The Wild Cherry**

It was about nine o'clock when Zack pulled up to The Wild Cherry. He took a brief, but thorough, look around before entering. It wasn't busy yet, but this bar was one of the post-pulse San Francisco hotspots.

He finally entered, and was immediately assaulted by wave after wave of red. Apparently, the designers had a field day with the color. When his eyes had adjusted to the intensity of his surroundings, Zack immediately began to look for Jondy.

She was at the bar, serving a couple young men with her bright, natural smile. She was wearing her "uniform" as required, which consisted of a pair of short black shorts and a red tank top. It showcased her lean, strictly-trained body, and set off her slightly-tanned complexion.

She caught sight of him from across the bar and beckoned him over, bright blue eyes twinkling. He quickly obliged, trying not to look too out of place.

"Hey there, stranger. What'll it be tonight?" she asked, twirling a bottle of Jack Daniels idly in one hand.

"Just some water, Dee," he replied. He took a seat on one of the barstools and examined the place more closely.

Another man, no older than his early 30's, sat down a few seats away from Zack a few moments later. "Bombay Sapphire gin and tonic, make it strong," he ordered with a wink.

While Jondy was fixing the man's alcohol, he ran his eyes up and down her lithe figure. Zack saw this and immediately tensed up, boring holes into the man's back with a deadly glare. _You'd be better off keeping your eyes somewhere else, buddy…_ he thought, a deep scowl on his face.

The man turned to face the X5, grinning lasciviously. Zack just glared back in warning.

After about a minute, Jondy produced the man's drink with a smile. "Here ya go… Bombay Sapphire," she said, and handed him his glass.

"Thank you, gorgeous. Say… any chance you'd want to join me for some late night festivities after you get off here?" the man asked.

"Awww… I don't think so. My friend here might get jealous," she replied, gesturing towards Zack.

The man looked condescendingly at Zack, then shook his head. "Well… if you change your mind, I'll be around here for a while." He pressed a few bills into her hand and walked away.

After the man was just out of range, Zack turned towards Jondy abruptly. "God… do they always paw at you like that?" he asked protectively.

"Zack… it's part of the job. Don't get so worked up! C'mon… let me fix you a drink," she appealed.

He shook his head and turned around, gaze following his retreating enemy. Slowly, the tension between his shoulders began to retreat. He went back to surveying the bar, which was rapidly beginning to gather customers.

Several young women asked Zack to dance over the course of the next couple hours. They were all quite attractive, but they all lacked the intensity of a certain X5 residing in Seattle. He turned them down, of course. With slightly daunted expressions and scowls on their pretty lips, they all retreated.

After the fourth or fifth rejection Zack had given out, Jondy became concerned. "Why don't you go dance? It can't be any fun to babysit me against my will," she asked him, one eyebrow raised playfully. He didn't answer.

Jondy saw the trouble brewing rapidly in her friend's eyes. "Why don't you go back to my place? I'll be off work in a couple hours, then we can catch up," she asked him.

He stared off for a few moments, then answered firmly, "Alright. Be careful. And don't hesitate to call if you need me."

Jondy nodded and moved around the bar to give Zack a hug. He was just walking away when he heard her gasp in surprise. The sleazeball was back, and apparently he couldn't keep his hands off of the female X5.

Zack was at Jondy's side instantaneously, asserting his dominance over the other man. He saw the man's confidence flicker under his commanding glare. "Want to tell me what you were doing with your filthy hands on my friend?" he asked threateningly.

"If she's just your friend, then why should it matter?" the other man countered.

"Wrong answer," Zack replied, throwing a punch full-force to his nose. The man went reeling backward, blood pouring rapidly down his face.

"Shit, man! You broke my nose!" he exclaimed, whimpering slightly.

"Next time you try to feel me up, you're gonna get a lot worse of a beating than that," Jondy declared, sending a high kick to the man's chest to pin him against a wall.

"I'd suggest you leave now," she said calmly, removing her foot from the man's ribcage. "And you," she said, pointing at Zack. "You come outside. Tiff… cover for me."

Zack looked at her, bewildered, and followed her out the back.

"What the hell was that, Zack?! You're gonna cost me customers! I'm gonna get fired if you can't control yourself!" she yelled.

"And what about those imbeciles in there who can't seem to control themselves? I'm not going to let them grab my little sister… not under any circumstances," he snapped.

Jondy sighed and raked a hand through her long, blonde hair. "Just go back to my place… I'll try to get off early."

Zack scowled at her, then turned and headed towards his bike.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ahhh… will this be a Zack/Jondy fic or not? Or will it be a Logan/Max/Zack/Jondy ridiculous 'love square'? I guess you'll just have to review and find out!


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